


lipstick stains

by connorswhisk



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/F, anyway pix inspired almost all of this from the main plot to the title so, here ya go legend, theres some bg elmax because i couldn't help myself, this is. Gay. merry xmas pix, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21944479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorswhisk/pseuds/connorswhisk
Summary: The thing about dating boys, Nancy thinks to herself, is that, after a while, it gets...well...boring.or, the one where Nancy gives Robin a makeover, and just can't deal
Relationships: Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 214





	lipstick stains

**Author's Note:**

> so this is 50% ronance fic, 50% nancy wheeler character study, but is that really so bad? girl's a lesbian
> 
> title taken from lipstick stains by jay som

_The thing about dating boys,_ Nancy thinks to herself, _is that, after a while, it gets...well..._ boring.

Well, Christ, that sounds mean. Let’s back it up a bit, ok?

It’s not that Nancy doesn’t _like_ the boyfriends she’s had (boyfriend she _has._ ). Steve may have been an asshole for a minute while they were dating, but he’d gotten better, and at least things haven’t been awkward since they split up.

(Nancy cringes at the thought of that Halloween party, her outfit, Steve’s dumb sunglasses, the cups and cups of spiked punch she’d downed, and the repeated phrase _bullshit, bullshit, bullshit._ Definitely could have handled _that one_ better, Nance.)

Steve is still her friend. They still hang out. They still watch movies and go for ice cream and go to parties together, but this time with less kissing and more real smiles, more genuine laughter.

( _Is it weird?_ she’d asked him. _Is it weird for you that we hang out still?_

_Never,_ he’d answered, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. _Not weird at all. Not after everything we’ve been through._

And, _hell,_ they’ve been through a lot.)

Nancy wonders if she’d ever _really_ thought of Steve in _that way._ If the admiring glances she’d thrown in his direction had ever meant more than... _admiration._ At his popularity. At his personality. At his coolness. Had she ever really had a crush on _him_ , or had she just had a crush on his social status?

No, it hadn’t been that, at least, not in the final phases of their relationship. Nancy isn’t _that_ shallow, right? Not anymore, no.

But...why _had_ she liked him?

_He made me feel safe,_ she thinks. _He made me feel safe because he knew. He’d seen the things I’d seen. And he understood._

Does it even matter? Does it even matter how Nancy had felt (or _hadn’t_ felt) if they’re not going out anymore?

No, it doesn’t. Not with Steve, at least.

With Jonathan, it’s different. Initially, she’d thought she’d gone for Jonathan because he was nice. He was sweet, and soft-spoken, and caring, and kind. And those things are true. But Steve’s nice, too, just in a different way.

Had it been because Jonathan had liked her, even when she’d been dating Steve? Had she kissed Jonathan because she’d felt sorry for him? Shit, is she really as much of a slut as people have made her out to be?

No. No, no, _no._ Nancy Wheeler is _not_ a slut, just because she kissed Jonathan Byers without really knowing why. That doesn’t make her a slut, it doesn’t.

_Even if you had sex with him, too? You had sex with Steve,_ _and_ _you had sex with Jonathan, and last I checked, those are two different boys, sweetheart, so aren’t you a slut? Just a little bit?_

The sex...the sex had been...

She doesn’t want to say bad. It hadn’t been _bad._ It...

It had felt _wrong._

The one time she and Steve had done it, Nancy had been a little drunk and a lot angry. She’d been angry with Tommy and Carol, for making fun of her for being a prude. She’d been angry with Barb ( _poor Barb_ ) for getting mad at her just because she was trying new things, experimenting with new ideas. She’d been angry with her mother, for constantly trying to control every part of her life, in a way that she never seemed to express toward Mike, or even Holly. And she’d been angry with _Steve,_ for inviting her to his place and throwing her in the pool and getting her all wet, and for being perfect, but a little imperfect, too.

She’d had sex with Steve because she’d wanted to _rebel._ She’d liked the way it made her feel, doing something she knew she shouldn’t have been, doing exactly what her mother had never told her to do, doing exactly what Tommy and Carol had said she wouldn’t.

_That’ll show them,_ she’d thought, and had let Steve touch her.

It hadn’t been bad. It had been painful. But not bad.

Just wrong. Unfulfilling, in a way. All the movies and all the cheesy romance novels, and, _hell,_ all the girls at school talk about sex like it’s some great thing, like once you start doing it, you won’t want to stop. Nancy had been expecting _more_ out of the experience, but she hadn’t gotten it.

_Whatever,_ she’d thought. _It was only my first time._

But she and Steve never slept together again, and by that point, Nancy was wondering if it was _Steve_ who had made it bad.

Then, she’d kissed Jonathan, had had sex with him on _Murray Bauman’s_ pull-out couch, and had felt the same thing.

Unfulfilled.

Jonathan _gets it._ He understands more than anyone else, even more than Steve, in all honesty. He’s empathetic, and he listens, and even if he doesn’t know what to say, he’ll hear Nancy out when she’s got troubles (which is often).

And he likes Nancy, and Nancy had kissed him, and they’d started dating.

They still are dating.

The sex is... _fine._ No better and no worse than the first time they’d done it. Nancy thinks it’s safe to assume that _she’s_ the problem, because two different guys and two different mediocre sexual experiences? There’s no way this isn’t Nancy’s fault.

And it’s not even the sex, not _really._ That’s not the worst part. The worst part is that everyone treats Nancy and Jonathan like the perfect couple, like they’re going to be together forever, like they’re going to get married straight out of college if they can help it. Nancy had shocked the kids at school by dumping Steve, the popular pretty-boy, for Jonathan, the social outcast with the freak brother, but once the shock wore off, so did the charm.

She likes Jonathan, she does! But not as much as she should for the condition of their relationship. She’s supposed to want to kiss him, and tell him she loves him, and _fuck_ him, but she doesn’t _want_ to do any of those things!

She just...she just wants to be his _friend._

But she knows that isn’t what _he_ wants.

On the subject of friends - Nancy wants more of them. Sure, she’s got Steve, but that’s about the only person her age she hangs out with besides Jonathan and Robin, and Steve’s...

Steve’s a boy. Nancy misses the days when she could talk to Barb. When she could sleep over at Barb’s place, and they would watch corny movies, and do each other’s hair and makeup, and giggle about boys at school. Nancy needs a new Barb.

No, she doesn’t need a _new_ Barb, she needs Barb _back_.

As if she could ever be replaced.

( _your fault, all your fault, all your fucking fault because you just couldn’t keep your legs closed, could you?_ )

“When are you going to make some new girlfriends?” Mom asks, and Nancy groans internally.

The other girls at school don’t like Nancy. They call her _slut,_ they call her _whore,_ they ask her if she thinks she’s better than them, huh, just because two guys wanna fuck you? You aren’t better than us, you’ll _never_ be better than us, so why don’t you just quit while you’re ahead?

Nancy’s going to be besties with them? Yeah, fat chance, _Mom._

The only other girl besides Barb who Nancy’s hung out with in the past couple of _years_ is Carol, and there’s _no way_ Nancy’s hanging out with her. Hell, Carol would probably smack her if Nancy tried to so much as ask for a pencil.

So, there’s really not many options for Nancy in the friend department.

Well, there’s Robin.

That’s just the thing. Nancy _is_ friends with Robin. But every time she gets near her, the words stick in her throat, and she doesn’t know what to say, or how to say it. Robin’s... _different._ In a good way. She’s very pretty, and she’s funny, and she’s really smart, and Nancy is friends with her, maybe even _best_ friends with her, judging by the amount of time she spends with her and Steve, but -

Nancy doesn’t want to call herself friends with Robin, because it feels like so much _more_ than that. It feels like...it feels like...

Nancy doesn’t know. She doesn’t know, but she does know that Robin makes her feel different in a way that no one else has. Robin doesn’t feel like a friend, Robin...

Robin, _what? What?_

Nancy is so, so confused.

So she goes to the only person she feels she can talk to about it.

“I just, I feel like I’m rude to her? Am I rude to her? Do I come off as bitchy when I’m talking to her? And - and I don’t know _why_ I feel like she isn’t my friend, because we have sleepovers and go shopping together just like _normal_ girls do, and I have no _reason_ to dislike her. So why do I feel so weird? Can she tell? Do you think she can tell, I bet she can tell. Oh, God, what is wrong with me? This is - “

“ _Nance._ ” Steve holds up a hand. “Slow down.”

“Sorry,” she breathes, and sits back on her bed, hands fidgeting restlessly in her lap.

“Let me ask you something. Are you happy with Jonathan?”

Nancy blinks. Why the hell is he asking about _Jonathan?_ Last she checked, they were talking about _Robin._ “Uh...yes?”

Steve quirks an eyebrow.

Nancy sighs. “I mean - What do you want me to say, Steve? He’s my _boyfriend._ ”

“Are you happy with him?” he asks simply.

“I...”

“Nance, it’s _ok._ ”

Nancy huffs. “No, ok? I’m not happy with Jonathan, because I miss when we were just friends. I don’t want to date him, but I don’t know how to tell him that, and there’s nothing I can really do about it, alright, so back _off,_ Steve!”

He shrugs. “Ok.”

“Wh - What do you mean, _ok?_ ”

“I mean,” Steve says. “That it’s ok to feel that way, Nance.”

She stares at him incredulously. “Why are you even asking me about this?”

“Because I wondered if the reason you were so annoyed with Robin is because you’re already dating someone.”

What.

“ _What,_ ” Nancy says, deathly quiet. She doesn’t understand what he’s trying to say to her. What is Steve trying to say to her? She has no idea.

_Don’t you?_

“I’m just saying,” Steve says delicately, looking at Nancy without a trace of humor in his eyes. “That I’ve learned a lot this past summer. About people. About people’s feelings for other people. And it’s a possibility that you’re confused about Robin because you have feelings for her, and you don’t know what they mean.”

She stares at him. “ _How...?_ ”

He shrugs again, that same _no-biggie_ shrug. “Had a talk with Robin when we were zonked out from the drugs the commies gave us. Learned a lot.”

And Nancy doesn’t know what that means, but she knows that he’s right.

“Oh my God,” she whispers, almost to herself. “Do I _like_ Robin?”

“I don’t know. Do you?”

Does she?

Nancy feels herself nod, as if from far away.

“Ok,” Steve says. “You like her. You don’t like him. What are you going to do?”

“I have _no idea._ ”

She really doesn’t. She doesn’t even know where to _start._ Should she break up with Jonathan? If she does, what will be her excuse? And if she _does_ do that, what next? Try to... _get_ with Robin? Robin...Robin’s not like _her._ She’s not...She’s _not..._

A lesbian.

Holy shit, Nancy is a lesbian.

Everything is starting to make sense. Her lack of enthusiasm with the boys she’s dated. Her boredom with the sex she and Jonathan are having. Her lack of feeling when Jonathan so much as _kisses_ her. The funny feeling she has when she watches _Sixteen Candles,_ or _The Breakfast Club,_ and sees Molly Ringwald on screen. The glances at the people in the teen magazines she and Barb used to faun over, her eyes always lingering on the girls far more than the guys.

Oh, _fuck,_ Nancy is a lesbian, and she’s only just found out.

But she thinks that part of her always knew, anyway.

Oh, _fuck,_ Nancy is a lesbian and she still has a _boyfriend._

What is she supposed to do about that? What the _fuck_ is she supposed to do about _that?_

As it turns out, nothing.

“Nance, we need to talk,” he says over the phone, and Nancy agrees to come over to his house, not having the faintest idea what Jonathan wants to tell her. She enters the house in a gust of wind, pulling off her coat and scarf and greeting Joyce and Will and El at the door.

“Stay safe in there,” Joyce says with a smile, but to Nancy the smile looks a little forced, a little sad.

Ok, what is going on?

Nancy knocks softly on his door, and hears a quiet, “Come in,” in response. She walks into Jonathan’s room and shuts the door behind her, immediately engulfed by the smell of tacky pine-scented air freshener just barely covering up the scent of weed. But Jonathan isn’t smoking now. He’s standing in front of his bed, looking nervous, apprehensive.

“Hey, Jon, what’s up?”

He smiles. It comes out as a grimace. “Hi.”

Nancy frowns. “Are you ok?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs.

“You can tell me.”

Jonathan offers her another small, worried glance before launching into conversation.

“We’re moving. Mom got a job in Chicago, and we’re moving next month. She thinks it will be good for us to get out of Hawkins after...everything, and I agree with her. I know it sucks, but I think it’s the healthiest thing to do for us, especially for Will.”

“And for El,” Nancy supplies, but she feels numb, emotionless in her shock.

“Right. And for El,” Jonathan says. “So...So I guess I’m saying...I - I think we need to break up. Because we’ll be going off to college pretty soon, anyway, and a long-distance relationship is - well, I don’t know if I could really handle one of those.” He grimaces again, not meeting her eyes.

“Are you mad?” he asks.

As if Nancy could be mad at him.

“No,” she says. “No, I’m not mad.”

“But you’re upset,” he suggests, hunching his shoulders, shrinking in on himself.

“No,” she repeats. “I’m not. It’s alright, Jonathan. I’m ok.”

“Oh,” he mumbles.

“Are you ok?” Nancy asks.

“I don’t know,” he replies.

She hugs him. She stands there and hugs him, and he hugs her back, and they hold each other for a while, Jonathan’s face buried in Nancy’s shoulder, Nancy rubbing soothing circles into Jonathan’s back.

When she finally pulls back, he asks her, “Did you want to break up anyway?”

“What?”

“You said you weren’t sad or upset,” he says, shrugging in a way that, oddly enough, reminds her of Steve. “Did you want to break up with me, anyway?”

Damn it, _why_ does he have to be so good at reading people?

“Yes,” she whispers. “I did.”

“Oh,” he whispers back.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

She looks up at him, and he smiles sadly. “Don’t be sorry. I think we were better as friends, anyway.”

She stares at him. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

He nods, a small, almost imperceptible motion of his head. “Ok. Good.”

Nancy hugs him again, putting all her feelings into it, and somehow, Jonathan understands.

So now Nancy doesn’t have to worry about breaking up with Jonathan, but she does have to worry about Jonathan leaving town, and that’s worse, that’s much worse. Sure, Hawkins has bad memories for El and the Byers, and it’s only right for them to leave and have a fresh start. But Nancy doesn’t _want_ Jonathan to leave, and she doesn’t want Joyce to go, and she knows Mike will miss Will, and El, too, even if they’ve only just broken up.

Siblings think and do alike, Nancy supposes. She hasn’t talked to Mike about it, and supposes she never will. They don’t really do that. Not like they used to.

She almost misses it.

“You guys coming?” Nancy shoulders her purse, one foot out the door to the video rental store.

“Sorry,” Steve says, an apologetic smile on his face. “Can’t miss work. I already said my goodbyes earlier today.”

“Me too,” Robin says, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger in a nonchalant way that makes Nancy fluttery inside. “But tell El I say good luck, alright?”

“Yeah,” Nancy says. “No problem.”

“And Nance?”

“Yeah?”

“Sleepover tonight?” Robin asks. Nancy nods hurriedly.

“Yeah. Yes. My house?”

“Sure.” Robin grins and Nancy wants to fall through the floor. She hasn’t had a sleepover, or even been with Robin alone, since her talk with Steve. The aforementioned mullet-wearing asshole catches her eye and winks. Nancy glares at him, then smiles shakily back at Robin.

“Ok,” she mutters, “See you.” She walks out the door.

The short drive to the Byers’s house is filled with an impending sense of dread. Nancy has no one to talk to to relieve herself of the tension in her almost empty car. She tries turning on the radio, but decides it’s inappropriate and shuts it off. She spends her time stopped at intersections drumming her nails nervously on the steering wheel.

The sight of the moving vans outside the house make the bad situation feel worse. Nancy parks the car, allows herself exactly fifteen seconds to shut her eyes and breathe, and then gets out.

They’re all inside, finishing packing. Joyce stops her at the door with a quick yet motherly hug.

“Good to have you here for Jonathan,” she mumbles, and Nancy wonders if he’s told her about the breakup yet.

It doesn’t even matter if he has, at this point.

Nancy walks through the living room (pausing to rumple Mike’s hair, who retaliates with a “Hey!” and a poorly aimed kick that ends up hitting Dustin instead) and pauses at the door to Jonathan’s room.

“Jonathan?” she asks tentatively. A few seconds pass. He opens the door.

Nancy hugs him immediately, and he returns the gesture just as quickly, resting his chin on top of her head. Nancy had been worried it would be awkward. It isn’t awkward. It’s nice. Almost like their relationship never progressed past friends at all.

“Need help packing?” she asks, and he laughs lightly, probably for lack of anything better to do.

“No,” he says. “Everything’s in the truck. But I’ve still got my radio?”

It sounds like a question.

Nancy smiles.

So they spend the next hour or so on the floor of Jonathan’s now bare room, so different without its posters of all the different bands on its walls, listening to the sound of The Smiths droning through the radio.

They don’t talk much, but not much needs to be said.

“Jonathan!” Joyce calls, breaking the atmosphere, and Jonathan sighs and pushes himself to his feet, offering a hand to Nancy. She takes it and pulls herself up.

“Guess I should go see what she wants,” he mumbles. Nancy nods.

“Do you know where El is?” she asks. He shrugs.

“Probably in her room, I’d imagine.”

Nancy nods again, follows Jonathan out of the room, and walks to the other end of the hall, where the guest room has been converted into a bedroom for El.

She supposes she should have knocked when she walks in without warning, and finds El and Max locked at the lips. They break apart as fast as lightning, and El moves off of Max carefully, eying Nancy warily.

“Oh my God,” Max says, looking panicked.

“Oh my God,” Nancy replies, frozen still.

Silence.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Max pleads, and Nancy can see real fear in her eyes.

She doesn’t want Max to feel that way. Not after the real monster in her life is gone.

“No,” Nancy says quickly. “I would never. It’s ok.”

“Promise?” El asks, speaking for the first time. Nancy nods.

“Yeah. Yes. Promise, yeah.”

El squints her eyes begrudgingly. “Ok.”

“What’s up?” Max asks, clearly trying to alleviate the tension.

“Um...” Nancy’s still so incensed with surprise that she doesn’t remember why she came in here in the first place.

El reaches out and takes Max’s hand, as if challenging Nancy’s judgment.

“Oh!” Nancy says. “Right. Robin told me to tell you that she says good luck.”

Nancy doesn’t know what Robin would have to wish El good luck for, but El smiles, and Nancy sees her shoulders relax.

“Yes,” El says. “Tell Robin that it’s ok. And thank you.” She glances at Max.

Had Robin known about El and Max? Why would Robin know?

Had she _given El advice?_

Nancy’s head is starting to swim.

“Nancy,” El says softly. “You’re not mad? About...?”

“No,” Nancy says, smiling softly. “I’m not mad, El. I’m happy for you.”

El smiles again, and so does Max, and Nancy figures it might be alright, anyway.

And then the last of the boxes are being stacked in the moving van, and they’re saying their last goodbyes.

Nancy hugs Joyce, unable to help the tears that start flowing, though Joyce has some to match. She hugs Will, holds him close and ruffles his hair as if he were her own younger brother. She hugs Jonathan, and keeps hugging him for as long as she can get away with, wishing she didn’t have to under these circumstances. And she hugs El, kisses her on the cheek, and wishes her good luck with everything.

And then they’re getting in the car, they’re pulling out of the driveway, and then there’s nothing left of the Byers family but the dust from the tires.

Nancy feels empty, and knows the feeling is mutual all around their little group. She leaves Mike with Lucas, Max, and Dustin, and turns to her own mother, shaken, but still as solid as ever.

“Mom, can Robin come over and spend the night?”

Mom nods, smiling sadly. “Whatever you need, honey.”

Nancy worries if the hours will go by like molasses, but pretty soon, she's spying Robin parking her bike by her garage, silhouette backlit by the sunset, and she tries to quash the butterflies convening in her stomach.

“Hi,” Nancy says breathlessly when she opens the door.

“Hi,” Robin responds, eyes crinkling with her smile.

“You girls want a pizza?” Mom asks. “I’m ordering some for the kids downstairs.” Nancy quirks a questioning eyebrow in Robin’s direction.

“Sure thing, Mrs. W!” Robin calls. “Just no sausage, please.” Her hands brush her hair back away from her face, and Nancy’s stuck, enraptured, tracking the path of Robin’s fingers through the fair strands.

“Nancy, are you going to invite Ruby in, or are you going to let her freeze to death?” Dad drones from the recliner.

“It’s _Robin,_ ” Nancy says, flushing as she steps aside to let Robin in. Dad just grunts noncommittally and goes back to the TV.

“That’s ok,” Robin says, still smiling. “I think as long as he acknowledges my existence, we’re good.”

“Probably,” Nancy says, and they both giggle.

“Do you want a Coke?” Nancy asks.

“Sure.”

“Ok. I’ll go get them,” Nancy says, but Robin follows her to the basement fridge, anyway.

Downstairs, Mike and the others are slumped on top of the couches in various positions, looking glum and ignoring whatever movie is playing on the TV. Lucas seems to be dozing off on Dustin’s shoulder, Mike is scowling moodily at the carpet, and Max is tossing her walkie-talkie back and forth between her hands, tapping her foot on the floor.

“Hey, guys,” Robin says. They all reply with various sounds of greeting, not very enthusiastically, though Max looks up apprehensively.

“Geez, tough crowd.” Dustin responds with a lazy finger in Robin’s general direction.

“Watch it, Henderson,” Robin says. Nancy passes her a Coke can, taking one for herself and shutting the fridge door.

“You ok, Mike?” she asks. Mike just shifts his withering glare to her.

“Ok,” she says, holding up her hands in surrender. “Alright.”

“C’mon, Nance,” Robin mutters, and Nancy feels a thrill as Robin slips her hand into Nancy’s own. “Let’s leave them to it.” She pulls her up the stairs.

They sit on Nancy’s bed and turn on the radio to some random Top 40 station, sipping Coke and occasionally singing along.

“Don’t seem too happy down there,” Robin says.

“No,” Nancy sighs. “They’re missing a member.”

“Well, so are you,” Robin says pointedly.

Nancy frowns. “What?”

“Jonathan,” Robin says, as if it should be obvious. “He was your boyfriend.”

“Well - ,” Nancy starts, and then stops. “I...yeah, he was.”

“Do you miss him?” Robin asks, but she doesn’t meet Nancy’s eyes.

“Yes,” Nancy says automatically. “Not so much the dating part, but I miss Jonathan, yeah.”

“You didn’t like dating him?” Robin looks surprised.

“Um,” Nancy starts, face burning, but then Mom calls them down for pizza and the moment is gone.

They eat at the kitchen island, laughing about things that have happened at school, at ways that Steve has made a fool of himself. They drink more Coke, and chuck pieces of mushroom at each other until Mom tells them to stop, and then Robin laughs so hard that Coke sprays out of her nose, and then they laugh even harder.

By the time they get back upstairs, Mike has told them off twice for being too loud, and they collapse onto the bed, still giggling.

“Your brother’s kind of a loser,” Robin says, and they both burst into another laughing fit.

“Hey,” Nancy says, body still shaking with laughter. “Hey, hey, Robin.”

“Hey yourself, Wheeler,” she says, grinning.

“Wouldn’t it be fun if I did your makeup?” Nancy asks. She doesn’t know why. She feels _drunk._ They haven’t had any alcohol, but Nancy feels _drunk._ Drunk off of _her._

Robin’s smile falters a bit. “I don’t know...”

“I mean, you don’t wear it much, really,” Nancy says. “Come on, we can be like those girls. I can give you a makeover.”

“‘Those girls?’” Robin asks.

“You know, those girls in all those movies. Like the ones at school. _Those girls._ ”

Robin’s grin returns to its full magnitude. “Oh my God, we can so totally be _those girls._ ”

Nancy giggles. “Yeah.”

“Ok. Ok, let’s do it,” Robin says, so Nancy gets up and crosses the room to her dresser.

“Ok,” she says, going through her bag, eyes roaming the tabletop. “Eyes first?”

Robin looks amused. “Shouldn’t we pick out clothes, first?”

Nancy can feel herself blushing. “Oh. Oh, yeah.”

Robin laughs lightly, and Nancy wants to die. She opens up her closet, beckons Robin closer, and gestures to the clothes inside.

Robin blinks. “You want me to choose?”

Nancy shrugs. “It’s your makeover.”

“Ok.” Robin moves tentatively ahead, delicately moving hangers aside like she’s scared Nancy will yell at her if she isn’t careful enough. After a few minutes of searching, she decides on a black and teal striped dress that Nancy wore once for a birthday party and then forgot about, plus a black belt and a pair of brown sandals.

“I know it’s pretty simple,” Robin says bashfully, staring at her feet. “But I don’t usually wear dresses, so I think it’s ambitious enough.”

Nancy smiles. “I bet it’ll look great.”

Robin goes into the bathroom to change, and comes into the room with her arms spread awkwardly, as if to say, “ta-da.”

“How do I look?” she asks. “Not too awful, I hope?”

“No.” Nancy’s throat feels dry. She swallows thickly. “No, no, you look...great.”

And she does. It may be a simple outfit, but it works for Robin in a way that makes Nancy imagine something flashier wouldn’t be as good. The teal of the dress matches her eyes, and the shoes and belt add something to the look that it needs. Nancy wonders if she should wear this exact combination herself, because it does look really good. Then she decides that no one but Robin could pull it off, and even if they did, it still wouldn’t be as effortlessly pretty.

_Get a grip on yourself, Nance, you haven’t even done her makeup yet._

“Eyes now?” Robin suggests, and Nancy nods, grateful for the excuse to stop staring. She does Robin’s eyes with a thick black pencil, helping them to stand out and match with the belt and the dress. She gives her some light blue eyeshadow, just a little, just enough to be noticed.

“I like it,” Robin decides, surveying her eyes in the mirror, and Nancy smiles with a mixture of pride and elation.

“Lips next?”

Nancy places a hand against Robin’s cheek to steady her while she goes in with a dark red color, tries to ignore the softness of skin against skin and the general tenderness of the gesture. She finishes with a quick dust of some pale blush, and leans back ever-so-slightly to scrutinize her handiwork.

“Yeah, I think it looks good,” she says. Robin smiles softly.

“Nancy...”

Nancy stops. She’s so close to Robin that she can count every freckle across her nose.

Robin’s lips part ever so slightly, dark with the lipstick Nancy had used.

“Hair!” Nancy yelps, pulling back and taking her hand from Robin’s cheek, and tries to quash the disappointed way she feels when she does.

“Hair?” Robin asks quietly, looking a little dazed.

“Nothing special,” Nancy decides, even though her heart is racing a mile a minute. “Just to make it silky.”

“You want it down?” Robin asks.

Nancy shrugs. “It’s up to you.” She hopes, though, that Robin will want it down.

Robin picks up the hairbrush. “Can I do it myself?”

Nancy blinks in surprise. “Oh, sure, if you want to. There’s some product in the bathroom cabinet if you need some.”

“I’ve got it,” Robin says, heading for the bathroom. Nancy makes to follow her, but Robin stops her at the door.

“I was actually going to do it myself,” she says. “You know, so it could be a surprise.”

“Oh, yeah,” Nancy hears herself say over the blood pounding in her ears. “A surprise, sure.”

Robin smiles. “Ok.” And shuts the door.

Nancy paces back and forth across the carpet. Time seems to be standing still. If Robin doesn’t hurry up, Nancy might just lose her mind, right here and right now. Forget monsters from another dimension. Pretty girls will be the death of Nancy Wheeler.

When she hears the door creak open, her heart leaps. Nancy whirls around.

Robin stands almost shyly in the doorway, arms hanging at her sides, looking at Nancy expectantly for an opinion. And Nancy...Nancy really has no idea what to say.

Robin is beautiful. Not pretty. Not cute. Beautiful. Nancy had thought she looked good in the dress, and had admired her makeup close up, but hadn’t had the chance to take in both at the same time. All that, coupled with her hair, which rests in shining waves against her shoulders, and Nancy just can’t take it. She feels like the boy in the movie, when he sees the girl all made up and feels like he’s seeing her for the first time.

Her hair. Her outfit. Her lips. Her eyes. _Her._

“Robin...,” Nancy breathes.

Robin grimaces slightly. “That bad?”

“No, not bad. Not bad at all. You look really, _really_ good, Rob.”

Silence. Then,

“I saw El and Max kissing,” Nancy blurts, which is exactly not what she had wanted to say at all.

Robin frowns, taken aback. “Wait, what?”

“I,” Nancy says. She wets her lips. “Earlier today, when I went to say goodbye, I - I went to tell El what you told me to tell her. And when I went in her room, she was in there and she was kissing Max.”

“Oh,” Robin says.

“I guess I - I just wanted to ask you,” Nancy says. “If you knew that - or if you talked to El about...”

Robin swallows. “Yeah, I did. She wanted to know why she felt the way she did when she was around Max, so I told her.”

“Oh,” Nancy murmurs.

“Sorry if that made you uncomfortable or anything, walking in on them like that,” Robin says sullenly.

“No!” Nancy yells. “I mean, no. It didn’t - It didn’t make me uncomfortable. I was just surprised.”

Robin blinks. “Oh. Ok.”

“You look really pretty, Robin,” Nancy breathes.

Robin fidgets with her belt. “Nancy, I - “

“Yeah?” Nancy needs to hear what Robin has to say, she has to know, has to know, has to know.

“I,” Robin says, and then swallows. She moves, slowly, over to where Nancy is standing, carefully taking her face in her hands.

Nancy’s breath hitches.

“Just,” Robin mutters. “Just tell me if you want me to stop.”

She kisses her. Just for a second. Just once. A small peck of lips against lips.

Nancy exhales shakily from her mouth.

“Sorry,” Robin mumbles, and starts to pull away.

“Do it again,” Nancy says.

Robin freezes. “What?”

Nancy kisses her this time, harder, for longer. She can feel Robin’s lips moving against her own, and she never wants to feel anything else. She moves her hands to Robin’s waist, and revels in the feeling that shoots through her fingertips. Robin’s hands rest on Nancy’s shoulders, and Nancy knows that those hands are the only things grounding her from floating right up in the air. This is better than Steve, this is better than Jonathan, this is better than anything in the world.

They break apart, breathing heavily. Robin’s lipstick is slightly smudged, and Nancy wonders if it’s on her own mouth.

“Wow,” Robin breathes, and Nancy nods.

“Wow,” she repeats, and they both laugh softly.

“Can I kiss you again?” Robin asks. “Sorry, it’s just - I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

“Yes,” Nancy says. “Hold on one sec.”

She walks over to the dresser and peers at herself in the mirror. Sure enough, the dark color of Robin’s lipstick is stained at the corners of her mouth. Nancy wants to wear it like a badge. She wants it to stay there forever.

“Sorry,” Robin says for the tenth time. “I ruined your work.”

Nancy turns around and puts her hands on Robin’s hips. “No, you didn’t.”

Robin reaches a hand up to brush Nancy’s hair back. “I want to kiss you again.”

“Do it,” Nancy whispers, and dives in for more.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! happy holidays to the 10 of you in the ronance fandom reading this :)


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